


What a Wicked Game You Play

by starsthatburn



Series: Wicked Games [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Drunken Flirting, F/F, Flirting, No actual smut but a lot of discussion about it, Rebound, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 02:06:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17799062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsthatburn/pseuds/starsthatburn
Summary: Prequel chapter to Wicked Games. Regina takes Emma out for ladies' night to try and distract her from her heartbreak. While they're in the bar together, they start to explore how they actually feel about one another.





	What a Wicked Game You Play

Word had obviously gotten out that Snow White was drunk and willing to engage in some of her Enchanted Forest pastimes again, because a whole new swarm of vikings and merry men had appeared in the bar over the past half hour. From their booth in the corner, Regina and Emma were watching anxiously, trying to make sure Snow wasn't about to launch headfirst into a fight she wouldn't be able to win.

Not anxiously enough to leave their drinks and guide her away from the dartboard, though.

"Have you ever seen her like this before?" Emma asked, her eyes on the other side of the room.

While Emma's attention was elsewhere, Regina took the opportunity to watch her – she looked tired, although once they'd settled into their drinks some of the sadness around her eyes had started to ebb away. Regina was overwhelmingly relieved to see that she'd ditched the ugly checked coat from earlier and was instead wearing a black turtleneck that vaguely reminded her of the Emma Swan who'd come crashing over the town line in a yellow bug several years earlier.

When Regina didn't respond to her question, Emma turned to look across the table again. "What?"

"Hm?"

"Why are you staring?"

"I didn't realise I was," Regina said, taking another sip of her wine. Emma was slugging her way through an enormous tankard of beer and she couldn't help but laugh at the difference between them. "And no, I haven't."

"What?"

"Seen your mother like this," Regina said, nodding across the room at where Snow was jabbing a finger into the chest of a man she deemed to be a cheater. "She has been drunk before, right?"

"I'm starting to wonder that too, to be honest," Emma mused. She took another sip of her beer and wrinkled her nose. "I still feel like we should go get involved."

"She's fine. No one's going to hurt her."

"You're willing to risk that?"

"Of course I am," Regina said coolly. "I hate her, remember? I'm secretly hoping they'll tear her to pieces."

Emma rolled her eyes, although it looked like she wanted to laugh. "I'm not joking about my mother's untimely death with you."

"Come on. You know I'm not being serious – would I really have invited you both out for drinks if I still wanted her dead?"

"You think I've forgotten about the poisoned apple turnover incident?" Emma asked, but now she really was laughing. "I know what you're like – any selfless gesture from you makes me immediately suspicious."

Regina smirked back at her, and for a second they just shared a look. It was something they did increasingly often now that they were finally on the same page in life – in one prolonged glance, they could share so much. _Go get Henry. I'll deal with this. Don't say that. Could you stop antagonising my parents, please?_

This look, though, was cut short by a flicker of guilt that made Emma's smile fade all over again.

Regina spotted it at once. "What?"

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing. Why are you acting like this?"

"Seriously?" Emma asked. "My boyfriend just skipped town and you're asking why I'm sad?"

"That's not what I meant," Regina said, her eyes on the sharp downturn of Emma's mouth. "I understand why you're sad – in theory, anyway, although I still don't think that cretin has any right to affect you like this."

Emma rolled her eyes. "What, then?"

"As soon as you look like you might be having fun, you force yourself to stop," Regina said, watching Emma's cheeks turn pink. "You were laughing just now, and then it was like you reminded yourself that you weren't supposed to be doing that. Are you punishing yourself?"

Emma blinked at the brutality of her question. "Jesus, Regina. Is that any of your business?"

"You have to talk to someone," Regina replied. "And clearly mommy dearest isn't in the best state for a heart to heart. So why not tell me?"

"Because you're... you know," Emma said, her cheeks suddenly pink again. "We don't have that kind of relationship."

"We could. You just have to trust that I'm not planning to destroy you anymore."

"I already know that."

"Then why—?"

"Come on, Regina. You know I don't just spill my heart out to anyone who asks. I used to tell Mary Margaret all kinds of stuff when I thought we were friends, and then it turned out she was actually my mom and the sharing stopped pretty much right away. And _then_ I opened myself up to Hook and... well. You know how that turned out."

"So, what? You're not going to tell me anything because you're expecting me to get up and walk off?"

"It wouldn't be the most surprising thing you'd ever done," Emma muttered into her beer. Regina scowled back at her. "Look – I'm fine, okay? Hook's gone and I'm sad, but I'll be alright."

There was something entirely too rehearsed about that sentence, and weirdly Regina didn't think it was because Emma was just trying to kid herself. She _was_ sad – that much was obvious. But there was something else going on, and it was stopping Emma from truly being able to relax into her seat.

Regina thought back to the way Emma had laughed and then blushed, immediately hating herself for it, and forced a smile.

"How about I get you another drink?" she asked cheerfully, sliding out from her seat. Emma blinked up at her.

"We both have full glasses."

"I know, and I'm not happy about it. Drink up, dear."

Regina sauntered off. The other patrons cleared a path for her as she approached the bar, because no matter how often everyone pretended they'd forgiven her for her dubious past, she knew they were still scared of her. Sometimes it bothered her, but other times – like right then – it worked out pretty well. She was served in under two minutes, and when she returned to their table, Emma was halfway through her beer with a sour expression on her face.

"What's the matter?" Regina asked.

"This beer," Emma said, wrinkling her nose. "It's gross."

"Why did you order it, then?"

"I don't know. I just got into the habit around Hook."

Emma suddenly looked up and, when she saw what Regina bought her, grinned. "Oh. It's going to be that kind of night, is it?"

Regina slid two shot glasses toward her. "I'm being purely selfish. I need you to cheer up so this isn't as painful for me."

"Real nice," Emma scoffed, only then noticing that she had two shots in front of her and Regina had none. "These are both for me?"

"Of course."

"Err," Emma said, sliding one glass back across the table. "I don't think so. I'm not getting totally hammered while you sit there all stony-faced."

"I'm not stony-faced."

"You're also not getting out of this," Emma replied, lifting her drink and nodding to Regina's. "Come on."

For a second, Regina considered resisting. But then she saw the glint in Emma's eye that had been dulled by months of Hook making her feel like she wasn't good enough, and she resigned herself to the fact that she wasn't going to get through this night mostly sober after all.

"Fine," she said, snatching up her own and lifting it in a toast. "To your future."

"To your past," Emma smirked. They both sunk the shots down their throats.

* * *

Regina could remember all too vividly walking into Granny's after the sheriff election, the gold badge clenched in her fist, and finding Emma sinking a glass of bourbon like it was soda. At the time, she'd wanted to take the empty tumbler and smash it over her obnoxious blonde head.

Right then, though, when Emma finally ditched the cheap beer and ordered a glass of whisky, her heart swelled.

She missed the days when Emma's curls had been fat and voluminous. Her eyelashes were always slightly sooty then, like she hadn't remembered to take her make-up off the night before, and whenever she'd locked eyes with the mayor, her jaw always thrust forward with a challenge. Regina missed the excitement – and, sure, the irritation – that came from not knowing what they'd argue about that day. Everything always fell under the guise of them caring about Henry, but Regina wasn't sure how many people they'd actually been kidding.

Emma's hair was long and scraggly now, and it didn't suit her. Like everything else on her body, it looked deflated.

"You know," Regina said, trying to sound casual. "There's something I never thought I'd miss."

Emma looked up at her. "What's that?"

"The jackets," Regina replied. "When was the last time your red monstrosity made it out the house?"

She could see from Emma's eye roll that she wasn't really offended. "There's no way you actually miss that."

"Of course I do. Without it, I've had less and less to insult."

"I still wear them sometimes," Emma shrugged. "I wore the brown one last week."

Regina remembered. She'd had a florid blouse on underneath it.

"I'm not sure that counts."

"Why not?"

"Because you looked like your mother whenever she tries to be slightly edgy."

Emma glared back at her. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Emma, do you realise what's supposed to happen to a person when they get into a serious relationship?"

"Um," Emma blinked, leaning back in her side of the booth. "No – what?"

"They're supposed to open up, become happier, become _freer_ ," Regina said. "Not suddenly get quieter and moodier and start dressing like Granny."

It was a sad testament to how much Emma had changed when she didn't immediately get up and storm out at that.

"I'm not moody," was all she could focus on.

"Not right this second, but that's because you're out having fun for once."

"You call this fun? You're just sitting there insulting me."

"And you're enjoying it."

"You really do have a high opinion of yourself."

"Admit it," Regina said, leaning forward with her eyes glinting. "This is the best night you've had in a while."

Emma glared at her, and for a second it looked like she was going to deny it. But then she glanced around at the carnage that surrounded them and admitted, "It's not awful."

"Oh, that's quite the compliment."

"Don't push it, Madam Mayor," Emma replied. Regina felt a familiar twist in her abdomen at that name.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Yeah, you would," Emma scoffed into her drink. "That's all you ever do."

"Now, that's not true – I've brought you out for a lovely evening, and I've even complimented your heinous jacket collection."

"You call that a compliment?"

"It's as close to one as you're going to get."

"You're so _obnoxious_ ," Emma said, but she leaned forward with a laugh as she did so. "Why the hell did I even agree to come here tonight?"

"Because you missed me," Regina smirked, sipping her wine. "We hardly ever spoke when Hook was around."

Emma opened her mouth to protest that, then she paused. Her face collapsed. "Oh. Wow. You might actually be right?"

"I'm always right," Regina said. She sounded casual, although her heart was thumping. "Was it intentional?"

"No," Emma said, frowning to herself. "Not at all. I didn't even realise."

"He never told you to stay away from me?"

"Not that I can remember. I guess I just..." Emma paused, her cheeks suddenly turning red. "I don't know."

Regina's eyes latched onto the new colour in Emma's face at once. "Mm?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yeah. I don't know what happened."

"I think you do."

"I do not," Emma snapped, taking a gulp of her drink just to keep her sweaty hands busy. Regina was watching her bemusedly with her fingers still curled around the stem of her wine glass. Emma glanced down at them and shivered involuntarily, then snatched her eyes away before it could happen again.

"Fine," Regina said smoothly. After a pause, she asked, "So. What are you going to do now he's gone?"

"Who?"

 _Who?_ Regina could have laughed. "Hook."

"Oh," Emma said, blushing again. "Right. I'm... not sure. I guess I'll just take some time to myself."

"That's a good idea," Regina said. And it was. But she still felt a niggle of disappointment in the base of her throat, and she couldn't quite explain it.

"What about you?" Emma asked.

"Me?"

"Since you and Robin broke up. What are your plans?"

Regina's confusion was almost endearing. "Well. I don't exactly have a gaggle of suitors lining up to date me."

"You don't?"

"Of course I don't – you remember who you're talking to, right?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yes, I do. I know you're a psychopath, but the guys in this town have endured way less than that for sex."

"I think the pirate's charming personality may have rubbed off on you, you know."

"Well, I'm glad I got something out of that relationship."

Regina felt her stomach twist. "You didn't get anything else?"

Emma glanced up at her, then looked angrily away. "Let's not get into this."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a bit drunk and it's a bad idea."

"You're not that drunk," Regina said. When Emma just continued glaring across the room, Regina straightened her spine and prompted, "Miss Swan."

She watched as Emma's entire body jumped. Her darkening expression turned a different shade altogether.

Regina frowned at her reaction. "What?"

"Nothing," Emma said, shaking her head. "Sorry. You just haven't called me that in a while."

"Would you prefer it if I didn't?"

Emma looked back at her with an expression that Regina had never seen before. "No. It's fine."

Under the table, Emma's thighs were squeezed together and she was gripping the edge of her cushioned seat. Whatever feeling was bubbling up inside her was one she hadn't experienced for a long time – certainly not since Hook had been living in her bed.

Or maybe she had, but it hadn't been over him.

Regina was still watching her curiously, and for a second her eyes flicked down to her tightly wound body. She could see the way her muscles were tensed beneath her thin black sweater.

But then she looked back up to her face, and she saw Emma wordlessly pleading with her to let it go. With difficulty, Regina said, "Fine. Anyway – the point stands. With Robin gone, I'm anticipating quite a few more years spent alone."

"I really don't think you need to worry about that," Emma said, taking a bracing gulp of her drink. "You're not that bad."

"Thanks ever so much. Who am I supposed to date, though, according to you? The town isn't exactly thriving with options."

"Maybe you need to magic up a twin town on the other side of the country," Emma grinned. "You'll find someone there."

"Who says I'm even looking for someone?" Regina asked, leaning forward again. Her expression was suddenly intense. "Do I look that lonely to you?"

Emma glanced down at her body – the stupidly hot body that she'd found herself staring at more and more over the years – and said, "No. Not lonely."

"What, then?"

"I don't know – you just deserve someone, right?"

Regina smiled wryly back at her. "You sound like Henry."

"Then I guess the hopefulness gene didn't skip me after all."

Laughing through her nose, Regina said, "Look, it's not that I don't _want_ to be with someone. It's more that I've come to realise that committing your whole life to finding that one person who's supposedly perfect for you is... slightly crazy. Robin was my soulmate, apparently, and yet here we are. I'm not sure I have the energy left to go through all that again."

To her surprise, Emma smiled.

"Me either."

"Your heart's only been broken for two weeks," Regina pointed out. "I'm sure you'll bounce right back."

Emma scoffed and took another sip of her drink. "Maybe. Or maybe going back to my miserable old ways suits me."

"Emma," Regina sighed. "I know you're in pain, but it won't last forever. Also, please don't resign yourself to eternal misery. I'll be bored senseless if I don't have anyone to argue with."

"You're definitely not short of people to argue with."

"Maybe not, but you're my favourite."

Emma's eyebrows shot up. "I am?"

"Of course. No one's anywhere near as infuriating as you."

"Right," Emma groaned, ignoring the disappointment in her gut. "Thanks a lot."

"Oh, no – don't tell me you've caught your mother's overwhelming sensitivity in addition to her fashion sense?"

"Shut up," Emma replied. She wasn't hurt – not really – but she couldn't help still feeling irritated by the fact that Regina seemed to only ever want to piss her off, rather than just be a normal person who might actually turn into a proper friend.

Regina saw the aggravation flicker over Emma's face, and she stopped immediately. "Sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood."

"Yeah, I figured."

"Emma, you need to help me out here," Regina said gently. "You don't want to talk about it, but you also don't want to talk about anything else. What do you need from me?"

She didn't sound accusatory, which made a nice change, but the concern in her eyes was too much for Emma. She glanced around her for a distraction, then found a pretty great one.

"I want you to get us some more shots," she said, "and then I want you to play pool with me."

Regina's nose wrinkled at once. "Seriously?"

"Yep. I need a distraction," Emma replied, sinking the rest of her drink. "Isn't that why you brought me here?"

"I guess," Regina said slowly. "Although I was more hoping you'd open up to me and share all your feelings and then feel miraculously better for doing so."

"Pool works better than sharing," Emma said, standing up and holding out her hand to Regina before she could register what she was doing. As soon as she realised, she snatched it back and tried to look casual. "Come on – go save the table while no one's using it. I'll get the drinks."

With an aggrieved sigh, Regina pushed herself out of the booth and went to hover by the pool table. As she waited, Emma approached the bar and ordered two more shots, then returned to Regina's side with a triumphant grin.

"For you," she said, handing one over. Regina snatched it with a grumble.

"I hate you."

"I know you do," Emma replied as they both drank. "Now. You do know how to play, right?"

"Of course I do. I haven't been living under a bridge."

"When exactly have you found time to hustle the locals?" Emma asked, grabbing a cue and tossing one in Regina's direction. Annoyingly, she caught it without even blinking.

"I have to pass the time between destroying fairytale villains somehow. For all you know, I could be a regular at the Rabbit Hole."

She wasn't, because Emma had spent more time that she cared to admit slumped over that bar drinking away her feelings over the past few years, and not once had she seen the mayor there. Still, there was a competitive glint in Regina's eye and it was dangerously easy to fall for it, so she just smirked.

"Then show me your moves, Madam Mayor."

The smile Regina gave her in response was dark and tantalising. "With pleasure."

They began to play, and Emma was pleased to see after the first few rounds that she was better at pool than Regina. The scary thing, though, was that she wasn't better by _much_. Regina missed her first couple of shots but eventually got into the swing of things, and by the middle of the first game, Emma nearly choked when she realised that Regina was catching up with her.

"You're cheating," she blurted out. Regina was lining up another shot, her dress barely covering her ass as she leaned over the table. She threw Emma a withering glare over her shoulder.

"You can't claim that just because you're about to lose."

"But you're good at this," Emma said as Regina sunk another ball. "You're using magic to get them in, aren't you?"

Regina straightened up and leaned casually on her cue. "No."

"Prove it."

"How can I prove that I'm _not_ cheating?"

"I don't know. Put the child safety lock on your powers, or something."

Regina snorted, bent over the table again, and finally missed. She sighed. "That was your fault. You put me off."

Without bothering to reply, Emma took up her position at the table and lined up her next shot. She could feel Regina moving around behind her and tried to ignore her.

Then she felt a puff of air against her ear and shrieked, dropping her cue entirely. "What was that?"

Regina was leaning against the table right beside her, and she had a shit-eating grin on her face that told Emma how pleased she was with herself. "What?"

"Don't _blow_ on me."

"Oh, what's wrong? You can't handle a little distraction?"

"Regina," Emma snapped, ducking under the table to grab her cue and hoping her pink cheeks would be hidden in the process. "I wouldn't have challenged you if I knew you were such a dirty cheat."

"A cheat? No," Regina said, turning and leaning back against the table with her arms folded. "Dirty? Well, thats another matter entirely."

Emma's face immediately turned even redder. She returned to the table and took up her position once more. "Stop trying to distract me."

"I'm just making things interesting."

"Things are already way too interesting in this town," Emma replied, managing to sink a ball in spite of her trembling hands. "Why can't we just keep things normal for once?"

Regina was watching her closely, taking in the new colour in her cheeks and the way her green eyes were looking anywhere except back at her. That wasn't unusual in itself: over the past few years, when their constant fighting had stopped and their relationship had become something vaguely civil, she'd noticed that Emma had become increasingly uncomfortable around her. It was like when they weren't bickering, she didn't actually know how to deal with her.

At first Regina had been annoyed by that. Then she'd been disappointed. More recently, though, she'd been curious about it. She'd wondered exactly why it was that whenever she caught Regina looking at her, Emma looked away as quickly as possible.

Now she could see the slight tremble in her fingers, and she fought back a smile.

When Emma leaned over the table once more, she took a long breath to try and steady herself. Regina smirked and edged closer.

"Regina," Emma grumbled, trying to nudge her away. "Stop it."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're trying to make me miss," Emma replied. She was bent low, at the same level as Regina's waist, and if she glanced to her left she would be faced with a light black dress and a pair of casually folded arms. She could already smell her perfume and it was making her dizzier than the alcohol.

"You can't be much of a pool shark if the mere presence of someone standing beside you throws off your aim."

Emma gripped the cue harder and took the shot. The ball went in – just – and she shakily exhaled.

"Not bad," Regina said, pushing herself off the table and following Emma round to the other side. When Emma was bent over again, she took a moment to appreciate just how good her ass looked at that angle before she stepped up beside her once more.

"Regina," Emma snapped, looking over her shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Stop it."

"What's the problem? You're still winning, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but you're making this really difficult," Emma replied, looking back at her target. Her palms were starting to sweat and it was getting harder to hold the cue properly. "Can't you just let me win like a normal person?"

Silence followed her words, and she thought for a second that she'd won. Then suddenly there was a voice in her ear – right in her ear, so close that Emma almost felt a brush of lips against it – saying, "You should know by now that I don't do anything like a normal person."

A violent shiver ran through Emma's entire body. Her eyes closed for a second as she tried to get her breathing back under control.

She took the shot, and she missed. When she looked round at Regina, she was still hovering over her with an obnoxious grin on her face.

"Cheater."

"Sore loser," Regina replied. She nudged her out the way, going hot all over when Emma sharply inhaled at the sudden contact.

Emma still won that game, but only just. When Regina calmly reracked the balls and demanded another game, she didn't even think to say no.

She regretted it the second they started playing and she found that Regina was all but glued to her side.

"Wrong angle," Regina murmured. Emma growled back at her.

"Will you stop?"

"You're not going to make it. Try a little more to the left."

"Need I remind you who won the last match?" Emma demanded, ignoring her 'advice' and taking the shot anyway. She potted the ball easily and turned back with a smug grin. "Nothing to say?"

"Not right at this second, but I'm sure I'll think of something the next time you bend over."

Emma dropped the cue again. The thick end clattered to the ground, and it nearly bounced back up into her face as she tried to grab it.

When she looked back up, her cheeks burning, Regina was smirking at her.

"What?" Emma demanded, not acknowledging what had just happened and instead turning back to the table. Her heart was beating at a speed she hadn't experienced since she'd last had to chase a perp on foot halfway across Boston.

"Nothing," Regina said, her voice all too innocent. "I'm just offended that you won't listen to my pool tips."

"That's because they're useless," Emma muttered. She was lining up another shot, but she could feel Regina's presence lurking beside her and it was making her entire body tingle. She braced herself like she was about to be attacked.

What actually happened was so much worse: Regina gently placed a hand on her lower back, her pinkie grazing over the inch of skin that was visible beneath her ridden-up sweater. Emma jumped, knocking the cue ball eight inches to the left.

"Oh dear," Regina said coolly, stroking Emma's back once more before she pulled away. "Looks like it's my turn."

Emma groaned to herself, squeezing her eyes shut. Her temples were suddenly pounding, and it was getting increasingly difficult to tell whether it was from annoyance or from something else entirely.

Regina sauntered round to the other side of the table and leaned forward, looking up to catch Emma's gaze as she did so. For the first time in maybe six months, Emma didn't look away. Her cheeks were red and her expression was a delicious mixture of confusion and curiosity, and when Regina smirked at her, she looked back at her like she'd never seen her before in her life.

 _God, will you stop?_ Regina snapped at herself as she took her own shot. _She's just split up with the pirate. Her heart is broken._

And yet, she couldn't help herself. The slightly startled expression on Emma's face was doing strange things to her, and she couldn't help but wonder what she looked like when she was _really_ nervous. When she was tied down, pushed open, tears on her cheeks and her mouth frantically begging for release even though there was something stuffed in it to keep her quiet.

She shook herself to get rid of the image and potted another ball. Emma stayed quietly on the other side of the table, grasping at her stick to hold herself upright.

"Who taught you to play?" she asked eventually. Regina glanced up.

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"The curse gave me a lot of skills that I didn't actively pursue," Regina replied. "No one taught me to drive, either."

Emma nodded, in spite of herself wondering what other _skills_ Regina had. Regina smirked like she'd heard her.

"Don't worry," she said, missing her next shot because her mind was now firmly elsewhere. "Another couple of drinks and you'll hear all about the rest of them."

The force of Emma's shiver nearly sent her toppling to the ground. Regina's eyes were on her again and they were dark and mischievous, and it was impossible not to go hot under the weight of them.

"Is this what you get like when you're drunk?" Emma asked uncertainly.

"I'm not drunk," Regina replied, although she was starting to feel like she might be. "And like what?"

"Like this. All confrontational and..." Emma wanted to say 'flirty', but that felt like a risky move. Instead, she settled on, "...confusing."

That earned her another smirk that made her feel like her insides were boiling.

"Well, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to confuse you," Regina replied, nodding at the table. "It's your shot, Miss Swan."

There it was again – that name spoken in a slightly too commanding voice. It made Emma's toes curl.

She nodded sharply. "Right."

Why her internal organs suddenly felt like they were riding a few inches lower than normal, she had no idea.

She took up her position, relieved that Regina wasn't loitering by her side this time, until she realised that she was perched on the edge of the table directly ahead of her. Her ass was just above the pocket that Emma was aiming for, and it was suddenly all she could focus on. The cue felt warped and shaky in her hands.

"Any day now," Regina said, pretending to examine her cuticles. She could hear her own blood pounding in her ears as she forced herself not to notice the way Emma was looking at her.

This was a dangerous game – one she definitely shouldn't be playing with someone whose heart was so fragile – but it was impossible to stop herself. The slightly gormless expression on Emma's face had been tormenting her for years, but there was something new behind it now. Whenever she called her 'Miss Swan', it morphed into something that felt like sheer, unadulterated devotion.

Right then, Emma was shaking her head to try and get herself to concentrate. She glanced up at Regina's ass once more, unconsciously wetting her lips, and it was right then that Regina realised she was too far gone to even consider stopping.

She'd had her suspicions about Emma for a long time, and they'd resulted in daydreams that were way, way too dirty for two people who barely had a conversation a week anymore.

Regina was only just realising how good her intuition was. She would have felt smug about it if she hadn't been busy trying to stifle the wetness that was building up between her legs.

Emma was lining up her shot again, but there was a frown on her face and her teeth were digging into her lower lip. Regina knew she was going to miss before she'd even moved.

"Oh dear," she said, hopping up once the ball had ricocheted off the edge of the table. "Was the last game a fluke?"

"Shut up."

"Don't tell me to shut up," Regina immediately rebuked, her eyes on Emma's face as she said it. She wasn't sure what she was expecting – Emma was hardly going to drop to her knees in the middle of the bar and promise to be good in future – but it was still encouraging when she immediately closed her mouth.

It didn't stay closed for long, though. "Are you going to take your turn or not?"

Regina rolled her eyes and stepped up to the table. She was thrilled when she realised that the best place for her to take her shot from was right where Emma was currently standing.

She sauntered round the table and plonked herself directly in front of Emma. She felt her take an awkward step back.

"Where are you going?" she asked conversationally as she lined up her shot. She was bending over further than was strictly necessary, but maybe the last drink had gone to her head and _maybe_ the thought of Emma's gaze on her ass was doing more to her than six whole months with Robin had.

"I'm giving you space."

"I don't need space. I'm going to beat you regardless."

Emma snorted from behind her, her shyness suddenly gone again. "That's some big talk from someone who just lost."

"I was warming up. You're losing this time round."

"I'm not," Emma protested. Then she stopped to count the number of balls left. "Oh, shit. I am."

Right at that moment, Regina sunk another ball before turning to look at her with a smug grin on her face. "You see? Personal space isn't required. I can beat you no matter what you throw at me."

Determination settled over Emma's face like a storm cloud. "Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely."

"We'll see about that," Emma muttered, gesturing to the table. "Take your next shot."

Regina did so with excitement clambering up her spine. As she bent over, she felt Emma slowly approach her, her movements still stilted and uncertain because she had no idea what game she was really playing or who she was playing it with.

After a pause, Regina felt a set of delicate fingers crawl over her shoulder. She didn't react.

Emma huffed and pulled back, suddenly hating the look of concentration on Regina's face. She wondered what it would take it wipe it off.

Just as she thought that, a strand of Regina's curly hair slipped free from behind her ear. It obscured most of her expression, and Emma hated that even more than the self-satisfaction it was shielding.

She reached out and gently tucked it back behind her ear. At once, she felt Regina's entire body tremble.

The cue ball went flying, collided with the edge of the table and then fell into one of the pockets. Regina gritted her teeth, annoyance surging up inside her.

"I can't distract you, huh?" Emma asked. Her voice was slightly shaky. She hoped Regina wouldn't notice.

But then Regina stood up and faced her with an expression she'd never seen before. It was partly unimpressed, and partly wistful. She was looking down at Emma's tentatively smiling mouth like she was wondering how to make it gasp instead.

God, it made Emma ache. She asked herself whether four drinks was enough for her to step forward and kiss Regina hard without having to take responsibility for it afterward.

Then she shook herself back to consciousness because what the hell was she thinking about that for? This was Regina. _Regina_ , the mother of her son and the scariest woman she knew. That was a dangerous thing to be exploring, no matter how she was looking back at her.

Emma swallowed and stepped back, clutching her cue like it was going to protect her. "My turn."

She turned and took her shot. Regina stayed behind her with her eyes narrowed and her fingers twitching. Bent over the table, her ass high in the air and her face still flushed with embarrassment, it was the most tempting Emma had ever looked.

* * *

Regina won the second game, but before they could play a third and see who was truly the better player, the nearest group of vikings demanded that they get a turn. Regina sent Emma back to the booth while she went to buy more drinks, and when she returned to the table, she didn't go back to her previous seat.

Emma blinked and edged back as Regina slid in beside her. "What are you doing?"

"Your mother's gotten rowdier," Regina lied, nodding at the chaos on the other side of the bar. "I can see it better from here."

Another blush spread over Emma's face, and Regina found herself trying to remember whether she'd ever seen her act like that before. Emma was suddenly jittery and unsure of herself, and it was both strange and deeply enticing.

Then, out of nowhere, Regina wondered whether maybe this was what she looked like when she was uncomfortable. Anxiety twisted in her gut.

"Sorry," Regina said, already leaning away. "Shall I go back to my side?"

She was surprised by how quickly Emma replied. "No, of course not. This is... This is fine."

"Are you sure? You seem a little on edge."

Emma cursed herself, trying to take a deep breath. The feeling of Regina beside her, so close that their arms were nearly touching, was setting her entire body on fire for some unknown reason, and she fought desperately to get herself back under control.

"I'm drunk," she said eventually. It wasn't necessarily a lie. She hadn't had much to drink recently, mostly because Hook didn't think it was ladylike and she hadn't wanted to argue with him, so the few drinks they'd had so far were already clouding her head. She knew that the latest one wasn't a good idea, but she grabbed it and took a gulp anyway.

Regina laughed softly. "Should I start rationing you?"

"No. I thought you brought me out to have a good time?"

"Oh, I did. But taking you to the emergency room doesn't sound like much of a good time to me – it certainly doesn't feature on my list of things that I'd enjoy doing to you."

Emma's head snapped round, her eyes wide. "What?"

"With you," Regina corrected herself calmly. If Emma didn't know any better, she'd think that she had done that on purpose.

She swallowed, torn between feeling like she should edge away from her and wanting to lean closer. "Oh. Right."

Before Emma could fall too far into that spiral of confusion, Regina lifted her glass. "What shall we drink to this time?"

Emma considered it. It was only when she paused for those few seconds that she realised some of her sadness from the past couple of weeks had gone.

"To maybe feeling okay again," she said, clinking her glass against Regina's. When she met her gaze, she found her smiling.

"Did my ingenious plan work after all?" she asked.

"What ingenious plan was that?"

"Bringing you here. Trying to distract you."

Emma shrugged. "Seems so. But I can't guarantee I'll feel the same in the morning when I'm puking my guts out."

"You've had five drinks," Regina tutted. "If that's enough to make you projectile vomit then maybe I need to choose a worthier adversary."

"We're not adversaries," Emma protested. She actually sounded concerned when she added, "Are we?"

"Of course not, you idiot. I'm kidding."

"Right," Emma said, breathing a sigh of relief. It was maybe the most endearing thing Regina had ever seen her do. "I was worried that I'd been imagining this sort-of friendship thing."

"Where does the 'sort-of' part come from?"

"You know," Emma said, waving a hand aimlessly. "We're not... Right?"

Regina suppressed a laugh. "Well. That's very articulate."

"Shut up," Emma said automatically, then remembered how she'd been scolded for that 15 minutes earlier. For some reason that she couldn't explain to herself, she blushed and quickly continued before it could happen again. "I just mean that we're not having slumber parties and braiding each other's hair, but we're also not actively trying to kill each other anymore."

Regina knew exactly what she meant, but it was so enjoyable to watch her squirm.

"You don't want to have slumber parties with me?" she asked in her saddest voice. Emma immediately turned pink and hurried to correct herself.

"No!" she spluttered. "I just mean... Why are you laughing?"

Regina grinned back at her. "I'm just teasing you. I never realised how eager to please you are."

"I am not," Emma snapped, slumping down in her chair and taking another sip of her drink. As she moved, her thigh brushed against Regina's. She waited to see if Regina would pull away, but she didn't.

"I think you might be," Regina commented lightly. "Isn't that sort of what happened with Hook?"

Emma rolled her head against the back of the booth so she was looking up at Regina's face. When she was certain she wasn't being mocked this time, she shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"The clothes and the new, quieter attitude – they were all him, right?"

Regina held her breath, expecting to get snapped at, but Emma just sighed. "Yeah, I guess so. I didn't mind it at the time, but looking back, I guess it was a bit fucked up."

It was the most progress she'd made in two weeks, and Regina couldn't help but beam at her. "Has tonight helped?"

"Helped what?"

"Helped you feel a bit better."

She watched as Emma paused to consider it, her delicate little nose wrinkled at the side.

"Yeah, I guess so. But I'm drunk and distracted, and tomorrow I'll probably feel worse."

"Well. Let's wait until then to worry about that, shall we?"

"It's not going to be your problem tomorrow," Emma pointed out.

"Why's that?"

"Because I'll be in my house, and you'll be in yours."

Regina frowned. "Right. But I'll still check in on you."

"You don't have to do that."

"Emma," Regina said, automatically reaching out and placing a hand on Emma's knee. She felt Emma jump, but she didn't push her off. "Can't you just accept that we're all going to be looking out for you, at least for a little while?"

Emma was struggling to hear what she was saying. The fingers on her leg had made her entire body go hot and wobbly, and it felt like her skull was filling up with water.

"I..." she started, wriggling slightly and wondering why all of her muscles were suddenly aching. "I guess."

It would have been easy to scoff at the lacklustre answer and pull away, but Regina had spotted the dazed expression on Emma's face and it was doing interesting things to her.

She glanced down at her wine glass, wondering whether she'd get away with blaming all of this on it, before deciding that it was worth the risk.

Leaning slightly closer, she asked, "You do know that I care about you, right?"

Emma blinked at her. "You do?"

"Of course. Maybe not in quite the same happy-families way as your parents," Regina admitted. "But I still want you to be happy."

That, apparently, was the most confusing thing Emma had ever heard, because she was gawping back at Regina like she'd started speaking German. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" Regina asked, still not taking her hand off Emma's leg. "Because we've been through a lot and you're Henry's mother and I _like_ you. Don't you know that?"

"I... No," Emma stammered, Her thighs squeezed together of their own accord. "I just thought you tolerated me."

"Well, while I was tolerating you, I made the unfortunate discovery that you're not actually as annoying as I thought you were."

Emma giggled at that. Actually giggled. It was the strangest, most unexpected sound, and Regina felt herself go warm all over as she watched her struggling to contain it.

"You're funny, you know," Emma said eventually. "Which is weird."

"Thanks ever so much," Regina replied in her driest voice. "So, while I was tolerating you and realised that you're not actually that annoying, you were tolerating me and realised that I'm secretly hilarious?"

"I never said hilarious. Don't get too ahead of yourself."

Regina narrowed her eyes slightly. There was a grin on Emma's face and she was overtaken by the sudden urge to try and wipe it off of her.

"Don't tell me what to do," she said quietly, knowing this would either earn her a burst of laughter or a slightly shocked expression that she would want to kiss away. She was absolutely delighted when she received the latter.

"I... Sorry," Emma said, then shook herself slightly. Why the fuck had she just apologised for that?

But then Regina gave her a soft, proud smile and she stopped caring so much. "That's alright. You don't get another warning, though."

Emma laughed nervously. "What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it," she replied, tapping her thigh with one finger. "I'm enjoying spending some actual time with you, you know."

Too many compliments and weird, confusing looks had been thrown around that evening, and Emma could feel herself going slightly dizzy from the force of them. Somewhere deep in the sensible part of her head, there was a voice telling her that she was being stupid and she should back off now. She'd only broken up with Killian two weeks ago, and she shouldn't be leaning into anything like this yet. Especially not with Regina – that could never lead to anything good.

Except – God. Regina was watching her curiously, like there were several layers of her that she wanted to peel off, and all it was doing was making her heart pound faster. The hand on her thigh wasn't threatening – it wasn't even confusing anymore. It felt like electricity, and Emma hadn't felt that in such a long time.

"Me too," she replied eventually, well aware that she'd waited at least a minute before speaking. Regina didn't seem to mind – her smile was growing. If Emma wasn't mistaken, her hand had slid slightly higher.

"I've never seen you blush before," she commented, making Emma snap to attention.

"What?" she asked, instantly feeling her face heat up. "I'm not blushing."

"Your face has been a very youthful shade of pink for the past half hour."

"It's warm in here," Emma protested. She felt suddenly embarrassed, like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have, and she edged back along the seat. Regina let her go, but her expression clouded slightly. She looked disappointed.

"It's not that warm," she said softly, although she could feel her own cheeks getting warm. The sudden inch of space between her body and Emma's made her feel cold. "But alright. I'll stop picking on you."

She turned back to her drink and took a long sip, deliberately not looking at Emma anymore. It barely took 10 seconds before she felt her start to twitch anxiously beside her.

"You don't have to _stop_ ," she said eventually. Regina looked round at her, her eyebrows raised.

"No?"

"No. I..." Emma said, swallowing hard. She looked across the rest of the bar, either because she was too embarrassed to make eye contact or because she was making sure no one was eavesdropping. "I don't mind it."

Regina tried so hard not to smirk, because it was all too obvious just how much Emma 'didn't mind' it. Her fingers were tapping out an unsteady rhythm against her knees, and she already looked like she regretted her decision to pull away.

Regina took a gamble and slid closer, letting their thighs bump together once more. Emma inhaled sharply, her eyes meeting Regina's once more.

"If you don't mind it," Regina said quietly, making sure she had Emma's full attention before she continued, "why do you look so nervous?"

Emma opened and then immediately closed her mouth. When Regina looked down at her lips, she felt her brain short-circuit.

"I..." she stammered, losing her train of thought at once. She'd only just noticed how good Regina smelled and it was really fucking distracting. "I don't know."

She recognised the look of faux confusion that Regina put on then. Years ago, when she'd been using it to patronise her, she'd wanted to slap it straight off her face. Right at that second, though, she wanted to cling onto it for all she was worth.

"You don't know?" Regina asked. Her hand reached out again, landing slightly higher on Emma's thigh. Her leg was burning hot and toned and just asking to be gripped harder. "Tell me how that's possible, Miss Swan."

At once, Emma grabbed hold of the edge of her seat, her knuckles turning white. Her entire body had gone rigid. She felt slightly dizzy, and it wasn't being helped in the slightest by the fact that Regina was watching her with a self-satisfied expression plastered all over her face.

"What?" Regina asked, her voice far too innocent. Emma gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the throbbing between her legs.

"Nothing. You just keep calling me that and it's weird. You haven't done it for ages."

It was all too easy for Emma to imagine Regina whispering it into her ear, her voice tantalising and heavy, her fingers crawling higher up her thigh and into the band of her jeans. Emma swallowed and tried to regain her composure, but there was a dark expression on Regina's face that she recognised from her own stupid daydreams. She'd imagined her looking at her like that far too many times when she'd had Hook writhing around on top of her.

"I know," Regina said, sounding slightly wistful. "That's probably because you haven't been misbehaving so much recently."

 _Oh, God._ Emma had to physically restrain herself from moaning out loud.

She tried to laugh it off. "I've never misbehaved, _Madam Mayor_."

She instantly regretted it when Regina's face flashed with something that made her blood run hot.

"I think I'll be the judge of that."

 _Okay_ , Emma said to herself, looking down at the hand on her leg and taking a deep breath. _Calm down. You've missed having attention and that's the only reason why you're into this. Regina's just being Regina. Just move her hand away and things will go back to normal._

She didn't move it, though. She didn't even try.

Regina watched the thoughts ticking over in her head, bracing herself for some kind of half-hearted rejection, but she didn't get one. Eventually, Emma straightened her shoulders and looked right back at her.

"Why are you doing this?"

She wasn't shocked by the question. "Should I stop?"

"I don't know. I just need to know where it's coming from."

Regina shrugged and took her hand off Emma's leg, using it to tuck a blonde curl behind her ear instead. Her hair obviously hadn't been brushed in a while, but it was still surprisingly soft. Regina wondered exactly what it would feel like to fist her entire hand in it and use it to drag Emma down to the floor.

Emma's eyes went wide at the new contact. Regina decided right then that she could fall in love with that look.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "Maybe I just like seeing this side to you."

"What side is that?"

Regina arched an eyebrow. "Come on, Emma. You know what."

"I don't," Emma insisted, although she was leaning closer. Her heart was pounding. There were so many words that she was longing to hear. 

Regina's hand slid down from her hair to her shoulder, and she leaned forward to press her mouth against her ear. "The side where you look like you'd do anything to please me."

It was the biggest risk she'd taken in a while, but she was rewarded with a shiver that made her mouth dry out. Emma closed her eyes, trying to remind herself that she was supposed to be sad. She _was_ sad.

She was also aching all over, though, and one feeling was rapidly starting to outweigh the other.

She forced out a nervous laugh. "You think a lot of yourself."

"I do. And I suspect you like that."

Somehow, Regina had managed to burrow her way inside her head. Emma shook it to try and get her out again.

"You should..." she started, momentarily hating herself before she said, "...stop."

Regina pulled back at once. "You mean that?"

Emma wasn't looking at her. She was staring down at her lap, and her body was so tightly wound that it looked like it might be about to snap. "Yes."

"Alright," Regina said. After a pause, she added, "Why?"

She watched as Emma visibly struggled to catch her breath. Her cheeks were still pink, and she was frowning like the exertion of resisting this was giving her a migraine.

She'd said stop, but her body language said something else: her thigh was pressed hard against Regina's and her fingers were still curled around the edge of her seat like she was hoping it would stop her from floating away.

There was white noise buzzing in her head and it was nearly impossible to think of a plausible lie. "Because... you're making me uncomfortable."

When Regina went silent, she thought she'd managed to convince her. She exhaled. Then Regina quietly said, "Please don't lie to me, Miss Swan."

That time, Emma couldn't stop her faint moan of pleasure. She closed her eyes and hoped that Regina hadn't noticed it.

Of course she had, though. Emma already knew that Regina's gaze was trained on her face, and besides – this was a woman who noticed absolutely fucking everything.

"Talk to me about it," Regina gently said after a moment. She wasn't surprised when Emma shook her head.

"I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"Because," Emma snapped, opening her eyes again and looking round. "It's only been two weeks since Hook left and I'm not supposed to be doing this. What kind of horrible person goes through a break-up and then finds herself cosied up in a booth with someone who was supposed to be her arch enemy until five seconds ago? I'm not supposed to enjoy this."

Regina offered her a smile. "You're not a horrible person. He left you, and you're allowed to do things that make you feel happy again. There isn't some set period for feeling miserable that you have to stick to."

"Of course you would say that. You're the one trying to corrupt me."

Against her good sense, Regina laughed at that. She was relieved when Emma grinned back at her.

"I'm not trying to _corrupt_ you. I'm just trying to dig a little deeper into something that I know you're trying to hide from me."

"Did it ever occur to you that it's none of your business?"

"It did, but I always try to ignore rational thoughts like that."

Emma laughed. "You're an idiot."

"And you're avoiding the question," Regina pushed as gently as she possibly could. "Why did you ask me to stop?"

"I already told you."

"But you were lying. That so-called superpower of yours doesn't protect you from the fact that you're a terrible actor."

Emma's jaw jutted forward, and she nearly protested it. Then she sighed, her rigid body finally loosening.

"I just don't want you to call me that."

"Oh," Regina said, disappointment blossoming inside her. "Because it reminds you of the bad days?"

"No..." Emma said awkwardly, shifting in her seat. "Not that."

"Why, then?"

It was all too obvious that they both knew the answer, but Regina had to hear her say it. The need was making her fingertips itch.

Emma groaned. "You know why."

"Maybe. Tell me anyway."

"Why does it matter?"

"It just does. Tell me."

The command was spoken quietly and didn't have any real weight behind it, but Emma felt herself caving nonetheless.

"Because," she said, bracing herself for disaster and already blaming the whisky sitting in front of her for it. "It turns me on when you say that, alright? And I shouldn't be feeling turned on right now."

When silence followed her admission, she thought Regina was about to get up and leave her. She glanced up, expecting to see disgust on her face. Instead, she found Regina watching her calmly with what might have been a smile on her lips.

"Because you don't want to?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure that's true?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Regina said, edging slightly closer. Their shoulders bumped. "Do you not want to feel like that, or do you feel like you don't deserve to?"

Emma's face told her what the answer was even when her mouth didn't.

"How long have you felt like this?" Regina asked. At once, Emma looked away.

"We're not talking about this."

"Why not?"

"Because it's too much, and I'm going to embarrass myself."

"I'm not laughing," Regina said. Emma suddenly realised that she was right – Regina was watching her carefully, her expression neutral, and she didn't look like she was disgusted by Emma's admission. If anything, she looked slightly hopeful. "Tell me to back off, and I will."

Emma snorted. "No, you won't."

"I will," Regina insisted. "Tell me to stop and I won't mention this again. I promise."

For some reason, the prospect of them never talking about this again made Emma's lungs close up. She whined to herself, hoping Regina couldn't hear her.

"No. I don't want that," she said quietly. Regina's hand came back down on her thigh and rubbed it slowly.

"Okay," she replied, taking a breath. "Then answer my question."

Another command that Emma felt compelled to listen to.

"I don't know," she answered. "A while."

"Try again, Miss Swan. You can do better than that."

Emma glared at her, but she did as she was told. "A year or two."

"Good," Regina said, watching the way Emma momentarily brightened at the praise. "Has anyone else ever made you feel like this?"

Emma shifted again. "I mean... Not exactly."

"Do explain."

"God, Regina," Emma huffed, her face going red. "I mean, occasionally someone will speak to me like that and I'll enjoy it, but no – no one else has ever reached this level before."

The look on her face was making it hard for Regina to breathe normally.

"What do you mean by people speaking to you 'like that'?"

"You know what I mean."

"Then why is it so hard for you to say it?"

"Because it's _embarrassing_ ," Emma whined. Regina's grip on her thigh tightened.

"Don't use that voice," she said, her voice low enough to make the hairs on the back of Emma's neck stand up. "You don't need to be embarrassed. Just tell me."

Emma released a shaky breath, her eyes suddenly wide. "Like that. All commanding and... kind of scary."

"I've always been commanding and kind of scary," Regina pointed out. "But I didn't get this reaction when you first showed up in town."

"No, because I was better at hiding it then."

"Will you tell me when you first started thinking about it?"

The memory washed over Emma like hot water – her lying in bed after the incident at the mines, her fingers thrust deep inside her, her breathing ragged and sharp as she tried not to wake Mary Margaret up.

That was way too much to admit no matter how much she'd had to drink, and she smiled apologetically.

"No," she said slowly. "Sorry. I don't think I can. Not yet."

Regina smiled back at her. "That's alright. I understand."

Her hand lifted from Emma's thigh once more and returned to her hair, smoothing it down and tucking it behind her ear. Emma shivered at the softness of her touch, not caring that there was a whole room full of people who could see them if they only bothered to glance into their dark corner.

"Did Hook know about this?" Regina asked. Emma shook her head at once. "No?"

"We didn't..." Emma started, pushing through the embarrassment because it was already far too late to be worried about that. "We didn't talk about sex stuff, really."

"How so?"

"Just... He didn't like it when I told him about stuff I fantasied about, or enjoyed," Emma muttered. "Even if it involved him. It was like he thought women shouldn't have sex drives at all."

Fighting the urge to scoff and roll her eyes, Regina said, "Men are idiots."

"Yeah," Emma agreed bitterly. "They are."

There was barely any air left between them, yet Emma suddenly shuffled closer. Her body was warm and jittery against Regina's side, and Regina immediately wondered if it would feel the same when it was pinned beneath her own.

"Will you tell me about any of those fantasies?" she asked, before adding, "Any of them. They don't have to involve me."

For a second, Emma didn't respond. She was looking down at her lap, where her fingers were anxiously tangled together.

But then she peeled her hands apart and slowly put one on Regina's knee. Her skin was so smooth, and she exhaled sharply once it had landed. "Is this okay?"

"Of course it is," Regina replied, fighting to keep her voice steady.

"Okay," Emma said, nodding to herself. "Do you really want to know?"

"I do. I want to hear as much as you're willing to tell me."

Emma wasn't sure that was true, considering the amount of sheer filth that was clattering around inside her head. "I've always wanted someone to just... take charge of me during sex."

Regina wasn't sure she'd ever heard a more beautiful sentence in her life.

"I see. Will you tell me more about that?"

Emma nodded to herself. "Like... Sometimes I feel as if my life has spiralled out of control, if that makes sense. A few years ago I was an orphan and then all this stuff landed on my doorstep and now I'm supposed to be a daughter and a mother and the saviour and it's just... too much. There's so much pressure to be perfect all the time and... The idea of having someone on top of me who doesn't expect anything like that from me is kind of appealing."

Regina smiled proudly at her, even though Emma wasn't looking. "Is that all you want? To forget about all those responsibilities for a while?"

"Not... exactly."

Regina didn't pressure her for more, because they both knew she was going to tell her anyway.

Eventually, Emma asked, "Do you know about domination?"

It was such an endearing question that Regina would have laughed in any other circumstances. "I do."

"Have you done it?"

"Maybe."

Emma finally looked round at her. "Really?"

"We're talking about you, Miss Swan," Regina said gently. "But yes, I have. Quite a few times."

All the moisture in Emma's mouth had vanished and reappeared in another part of her body.

"I think... that might be what I want," she admitted. "I've never tried it, but the thought of someone having control over me like that and bringing me to my very limits and..." Her sentence faded out because the words wouldn't come to her. "I don't even know how to explain it."

"I get it. It's overwhelming and hard to put into words, but the itch is there."

Emma smiled gratefully. "Yeah. Exactly. I guess I just want to... lose control and let someone else worry about making all the decisions for once."

"You need a control freak," Regina commented. Emma laughed.

"It seems that way."

"Would it interest you to learn that I happen to know one?"

Just like that, Emma's smile faded. She watched Regina with wide, hopeful eyes. "You do?"

"Maybe. Only if you actually want to hear more about her, though."

Emma glanced over Regina's shoulder, taking in the scene behind her. The bar was still heaving, and through the crowd she could just about see her mother jabbing her finger into a viking's chest. No one was looking their way. No one even seemed to care that they were there.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "Okay."

Regina hadn't ever felt relief like that before. She thought it might knock her over.

"Would you like to know what I've thought about doing to you?" she asked, using her lowest voice – the one she already knew drove people wild and set their hearts racing. Right on cue, Emma's cheeks went pink.

"Yes please."

"Good," Regina said, swivelling slightly. Her hand had found its home on Emma's thigh once more, but this time it was much higher. The tips of her fingers could just about graze over the inside seam of her jeans. "Does it shock you to know that I've been thinking about it?"

"Kind of."

"Why?"

"Because... You're, you know."

"I don't know," Regina murmured, looking at Emma's lips as she nervously gnawed on one. "Tell me."

"You're elegant and intimidating. I didn't think I even registered to you."

"Now, Emma," Regina gently scolded. "How could you not? You're beautiful."

Watching Emma light up had become her new favourite hobby.

"Really?"

"Really. I've been thinking about that for a while."

"And... What else...?" She couldn't force out the entire question, but luckily Regina wasn't going to make her.

"I've been thinking about this lovely hair," Regina said, putting her left hand on Emma's leg so the right one could reach round her shoulders and twist at a strand of it. "Did you know that it's possible to braid a rope into someone's hair and use it to help tie them down?"

Emma's mouth popped open. "No."

"It's something I've yet to try, because I've never come across anyone with hair like yours before."

The hand on Regina's knee gripped harder. "What else?"

"I've thought about those handcuffs you carry around with you," Regina replied, watching Emma's face carefully. "And whether you've ever used them for anything else."

"No," Emma said at once. "Never."

"Would you like to?"

Again, Emma thought about the first time she'd ever stopped resisting all the feelings rushing through her and fucked herself imagining Regina on top of her. In her fantasy, she'd been bent over her desk in the sheriff station, her hands cuffed behind her back. Regina had been behind her, thrusting deep inside her with three fingers. She hadn't even bothered to take her coat off before she'd pinned her down.

"Yes," Emma squeaked. The smile Regina threw her felt like a reward.

"I'm delighted to hear it," Regina said, suddenly shifting forward and pressing her lips against Emma's ear. Emma trembled, closing her eyes. "I think you'd look beautiful tied down and begging for me to let you come."

Emma's sharp inhale of breath was absolutely delicious. Regina waited for her to laugh and shrug her off or decide this was too much, but she just squeezed harder on her knee. "You've thought about that?"

"Almost every day. Do you know what else I've thought about?"

"What?"

Regina swallowed against her dry mouth, wondering how far she should go with this. The list of things she'd imagined doing with Emma was long and outrageous and, in places, probably too much to ever say out loud. She was certain Emma wouldn't want to hear about her fantasies of her being gagged and bound and being fucked by a strap-on while Regina forced a finger into her ass.

Instead, she settled on whispering, "About how much I think you must writhe around when someone has their tongue inside your pussy."

Emma whimpered, her nails digging into Regina's bare leg. When she didn't respond, Regina asked, "Am I right?"

"Sort of."

"Explain."

Releasing a long, shaky breath, Emma said, "No one's done that to me for a while."

"Really?" Regina asked, snapping out of herself through sheer disdain. "Since when?"

"I guess... Hook did it once or twice when we first got together. Then he just stopped."

Resisting the urge to clamber out of that booth and go find Hook herself so she could break his useless neck, Regina leaned closer to Emma's ear and said, "Then he didn't deserve you. If I had the chance, I'd spend hours lying between your legs, teasing your clit and bringing you to the edge but not letting you come until you'd really, really begged for it."

"Regina," Emma gasped, looking around the bar once more. "You're lying."

"Why would I lie about this?"

"You're just trying to..." Emma started, then wriggled slightly. Whenever she shifted position, her throbbing clit ground against her jeans. "You're trying to trick me. Or something."

She didn't really believe it, but she felt like it was safer to say it just in case. Beside her, Regina sighed. Her breath was warm against her ear.

"We're past that, Miss Swan," she said quietly. "The only way I'd like to trick you now is by blindfolding you and making you think I'm about to fuck you when really I'm just about to punish you for being insolent."

Emma gasped again, her hips wriggling hard, and Regina so desperately wanted to slide a hand between her legs and cup her where she needed it. She resisted, but only just. Her fingers were itching for it. 

"Would you like that?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Have you thought about stuff like this?"

"Yes," Emma repeated, finally admitting, "I've been wanting you to do all this for a really long time."

"Hm. Well, I wish you'd told me sooner," Regina murmured, grazing her hand up Emma's thigh while the other continued to play with her hair. "I could be so well acquainted with your body by now."

Emma whimpered. "Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because I want it and... If you're kidding, I—"

"I'm not kidding, Emma," Regina interrupted, pulling away from her ear so that Emma could finally turn and look at her. Her face was adorably flushed, and her eyes were slightly teary from desperation. "If you let me, I'd do all of this and more."

Emma swallowed, then glanced toward the exit. Regina knew exactly what she was thinking.

"But," Regina continued gently, before the suggestion could escape Emma's lips and then be painfully rejected. "Not now."

The disappointment on Emma's face was both painful and reassuring. "Why?"

"Because you're sad and vulnerable right now," Regina said, twisting her finger through another of Emma's curls. "And in spite of my reputation, I'm not that cruel."

Emma nodded like she understood, but then she looked down at Regina's lips and asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Regina chuckled, squeezing her thigh. "No, you silly girl."

"You don't want me to?"

"Don't be coy," Regina said. "Of course I want you to. But I'm serious – it's too soon."

"Oh, but telling me that you want to tie me up and fuck me was fine?" Just saying the words aloud felt wrong, and when Regina's face flashed with annoyance at her tone, she wished she could take them back.

"Yes, because saying and doing are two very different things," she replied. "It's only been two weeks, and you're still hurting. How can you be sure you really want this? You might just be trying to distract yourself. I know how self-destructive you can get, after all."

Emma frowned, ignoring how true that was.

"But I've been thinking about this for months. Years."

"And I'm thrilled to hear it, you naughty little thing," Regina smirked. "But I still want you to think about it some more."

When Emma's face collapsed with disappointment, it was even harder to resist the urge to force their lips together.

"For how long?"

"I'm not sure. Until you think you're over Hook, I suppose."

"But what if that takes years?"

The thought hurt, but Regina suspected that it wouldn't be the case – not only because Hook was a piece of pond slime who didn't deserve Emma's sadness for even a minute, but because Emma was already looking at her like she'd forgotten who he was.

"Then I'll wait years," Regina said simply. Emma blinked.

"Seriously?"

"Of course. I've waited a few already – I'm surprisingly patient, you know."

Emma couldn't believe a conversation that five minutes ago had made her feel like she was sinking into an electric charge could suddenly make her feel so relaxed. "You actually want this that badly? With me?"

It upset Regina a little to understand just how low Emma's self-esteem was. There was a chance, though, that in a few weeks or months she might be allowed to try and help with that. If the opportunity arose, she'd do all she could.

"Yes, Emma," she said softly. "With you."

Emma finally peeled her hand off of Regina's leg, but she didn't back away. "I really wish we could do this now."

"Me too," Regina admitted. "But you'll thank me tomorrow."

"Maybe."

"Definitely. In fact, I hope that eventually I'll be having you thank me for a whole range of things."

Emma smirked at the sudden glimmer in her eye. "I kind of can't wait for that."

"I definitely can't. But first I want you to focus on feeling better, and on realising that you're worth so much more than the idiot man who decided to walk out on you," Regina said, squeezing Emma's thigh once more. "Once you're sober and less heartbroken, give me a call. I'll be right here waiting for you."

"What if you change your mind tomorrow?"

"I won't," Regina replied in her firmest voice. "You don't have to worry about that ever, okay? I won't ever feel differently about this. But if _you_ do – that's fine. I won't bring this up again unless you do it first."

"Really?" Emma asked. "Why?"

"Because this is scarier for you than it is for me, and I'm not going to pressure you into anything you don't actually want to do."

That shocked Emma more than their graphic discussion from a few moments earlier had. "Since when have you been so _patient_?"

"I'm only patient with people who I want to trust me," Regina said.

"You want me to trust you?"

"Of course. We aren't trying any of this until you do."

Emma glanced around them again, at the bar that Regina had dragged her to just because she wanted her to feel better. She thought about all the times she'd protected her over the past few years, or defended her, or even come running to her rescue. It was easy to forget that she was the same woman as the one who had tried to drive her out of town several years earlier, but when she stopped to think about it, she remembered the fierce loyalty that she'd shown toward people who had deserved it. She'd done everything she could to protect Henry, after all. It wasn't so hard to imagine her doing that for someone else.

Emma smiled nervously. "You know, I think I already might?"

She received a beam from Regina in response.

"In that case, Miss Swan," she said, leaning toward Emma's ear again. "One day soon, I can't wait to start playing a very filthy game with you."

Emma's entire body shivered as that dark, tormenting voice snaked through her brain.

"Yeah," she said, not caring that they could both hear her voice shaking. Regina's body was warm up against hers and the hand on her thigh felt comforting and promising in equal measure. "I'm looking forward to it too."


End file.
